The Southern Cross Cafe

Phil and I ate our first meal together at the Southern Cross during the summer of 2008. I was doing an internship with a theatre production company with my best friend at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and he'd been gone on a family holiday to Australia for three weeks. Four days after he returned to the UK, barely recovered from the trans-hemispherical jet lag, he hopped on an overnight bus from London to Edinburgh. He arrived in Edinburgh at 7:00am, far more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than one would expect considering he'd been up all night on a crowded bus. A hearty meal was definitely in order.

After checking into the hostel suite, where he displayed his impressive gentlemanly ways by lugging both my and my best friend's giant suitcases up 6 flights of stairs (chivalry is not dead, folks), we headed to the Royal Mile to forage. There's a charming street that curves down off of the Royal Mile, called Cockburn Street.


The view down Cockburn Street from the Royal Mile.

The Southern Cross Cafe is snuggled right down the bend. It looked bright and inviting, so we decided to give it a go. The menu provided is simple and clear, and the waitresses are attentive, but not smothering. As the cafe is quite small, there usually aren't more than two servers.

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Phil and I moved to Edinburgh just this past September. Our most recent trip here before moving was in March, and of course we needed to make it to the Southern Cross for a meal. Being very early spring, the weather was still chilly. In fact, we arrived in a blizzard. We definitely wanted a warming lunch.


Phil ordered a hot whiskey toddy. For those of you who aren't familiar with this drink, it's a mixture of hot water, whiskey, and a generous amount of lemon juice. The concoction is often used as a bit of a cheeky cold remedy. Some people like to add a bit of sugar, hence the spoon. The toddy took the chill right out of Phil's bones. Success.


The British aren't exactly renowned for their coffee-making skills, so I like to order coffees in my quest to find places that make a decent cup of joe. I'm American. I do love my tea, but old habits die hard. The lovely staff of the Southern Cross Cafe can, indeed, make a good cappuccino! I was pleased. There was no trace of burnt beans, and it sat nicely in my tummy. The acidity was very well balanced.


With my cappuccino drained and Phil's hot whiskey toddy still half-full, our lunches arrived in a timely fashion. If I ate red meat, I might have been disappointed that Phil inhaled his burger before I had the chance to try a little. I'm guessing it was good! I ordered a butternut squash and feta panini, which arrived with a cute little pot of chips, and a wee salad garnish. I would have liked some more salad, but otherwise I was very pleased with presentation and portion size. The panini melted in my mouth. The crunch of the bread worked perfectly with the soft meld of butternut squash and feta cheese. I have a hard time not ordering this dish whenever we go to the Southern Cross.

Happily sated, Phil and I were even more pleased by the reasonable price of our meal. It had been about a year and a half since our first time at the Southern Cross, and we'd forgotten how decently priced the food is! It probably had something to do with us not being able to pay attention to anything due to being incapacitated by the throes of new love.


Good eats!